


Humility

by littleLuciernaga



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, imagine them on their late 20s or early 30s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-12 04:01:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20152018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleLuciernaga/pseuds/littleLuciernaga
Summary: Routines should be boring and meaningless by now, but it's the little things that make them all the better.





	Humility

The smell of egg breaks into Tsumugi’s blurry and uncertain dreams, crisp and clear as day. He only takes in as much after half-opening his eyes, right away feeling his pillow embarrassingly dribbled on from deep and uninterrupted sleep. 

...Ugh, if he was gone enough to drool, he probably snored for at least some part of the night as well, right? Tired or not, that’s still such a nasty habit.

An apology ready at his mouth, he realizes there is nobody to give it to.

Groggily, he sits up and looks around the room, lonely, bigger than usual and darkened by closed curtains. In the silence of what feels like very early in the morning, he can catch not only the one source of light coming from the kitchen, but the faint and familiar sizzling sound of a frying pan. He smiles to himself when he puts two and two together, willing himself to put on slippers and walk out the room, careful to move around a calico cat circled at the edge of the bed to avoid waking it up. 

“...Natsume-kun, good morning.” he yawns when he makes it to the kitchen, pulling out a chair as he addresses Natsume’s back, “I thought you had a TV appearance today?”

And there he is, the person usually occupying the other half of the bed, if not less. As expected, Natsume is his stark contrast in every possible way; with Tsumugi sitting down in light sleepwear due to the heat, a bedhead and a pitifully unshaven face, Natsume stands tall, prim and perfectly dressed to start this day despite the early time, like he can’t stand to be seen looking less than his best even by himself. Another big difference lies in their morning attitudes, for the well-mannered Tsumugi can sense Natsume hasn’t had any breakfast yet, shoulders tense and his mouth tight as he cooks. He makes a vague sound of acknowledgement as soon as he notices Tsumugi has entered the kitchen and greeted him. He clears his throat to avoid the raspy voice that’s sure to come out of his first words of the day.

“I have to be out of here by nine.” Natsume peeks over his shoulder to squint, “You, on the other hand, have the chance to sleep at least until _ seven_. Why are you up so early?”

Tsumugi turns to give him a sheepish chuckle as their second cat, an odd-eyed and white shorthair, bumps its head against the back of his knees, demanding attention. The third and last one can’t be bothered to come near the table, too busy shoving its face into its plate to eat. 

“I didn’t even know it was so early...ah!” Tsumugi nods to himself, surprised, “No wonder I never heard my alarm, I woke up before it!” 

Natsume rolls his eyes. 

“And you wonder why you’re _ always _ so tired.”

“I _ complain _ a lot about being tired,” Tsumugi clarifies, grinning, “I don’t wonder about it.”

The redhead turns his attention back to his cooking, scoffing.

“At least have a little shame about it, _ idiot_.”

That only gets Tsumugi to chuckle again, satisfied enough with the back and forth to finally go and start breakfast; a warm bowl of rice, miso soup and vegetables already set in front of him and covered in plastic wrap for microwaving later, as Natsume didn’t expect him for another half hour. He unwraps his food and fishes his phone out of his piyama’s pocket, first to confirm the time--barely past six thirty am--, and then to scroll through messages and notifications he’s been getting since midnight. The downright silly expression on his face is inevitable, and even an occupied Natsume can tell from the soft chimes Tsumugi’s phone keeps on making once every few minutes.

“People are really messaging you this _ early_?”

“It’s mostly students,” Tsumugi explains as he eats, smiling fondly at his screen. “I bet they got some social media reminder while they were getting ready for class or something… otherwise they wouldn’t be this punctual.” 

“Huh. Then that means they probably would want to be on your good side rather than remembering out of the goodness of their hearts, right?”

Tsumugi can’t help snorting.

“I don’t particularly mind...at least not today.”

“Hmm.” Natsume sets two pieces of bread in the toaster for himself, “Well. Since you’re insisting on staying up in advance, I guess some coffee is _ due_.”

“Please. Can I help you with anything?”

“I’ve got it covered.” Natsume smirks down at the bright red kettle, already full of water. “You’re already eating and I know you’re _ dying _ to go over your messages.”

“Maybe…?”

Now Natsume is the one to snort, turning the gas on to boil the water. “Go on, get that ego-stroke you so _ desperately _ need. I’m almost done, anyways.”

“Are you?” Tsumugi pipes up, excited to see Natsume neatly roll the egg he was working on into his bento box. “What did you make besides omelette, anyway?”

“Wait until lunch and you’ll _ see_.”

“Eh, no fair…! It’s the first time in ages you make me something for work, so please let me enjoy it as much as possible!”

“And this is precisely why I don’t bother doing this often,” Natsume mutters, cheeks red, “You can be so _ embarrassing _ about such little things.”

“It’s not a little thing! It’s really sweet, and I can’t wait to see.”

“Well, you’ll have to.” Natsume slips down to the chair across Tsumugi’s with his toast, black tea already set on his side of the table. “Because it’s done and sealed _ now_.” 

“Okay...” Tsumugi chuckles, “They do say the best ingredient for food is hunger, right? So I’ll be building up that and my expectations all morning long, I’m sure that’ll make my lunch all the better. I also bet the other teachers will like to get at least one bite, don’t you think?”

“You are so chatty right now, _ how._” Natsume says, half-annoyed and half-surprised as he wills himself to eat. “I’ll never cease to be amazed at how you have any energy at all before eight. And how _ today _ of all days you don’t get depressed.”

Tsumugi shrugs with a smile.

“I mean...I used to, but nowadays I just think I’m depressed enough the rest of the year.” He grins down at his phone as it vibrates once more. “Plus, the older I get, the more people go out of their way to wish me their best, no matter how short or meaningless their words might be. I never thought that would happen.”

“Well...at the very least it’s nice to see you actually accepting the attention _ positively_.” Natsume observes, and then hums to himself. “I still remember you crying that time in school when Sora brought a cake to the clubroom.”

“Ahh, don’t remind me!” Tsumugi whines, waving a hand in embarrassment, “That was way too surprising after my first year of knowing you both...and they were tears of joy, anyway!”

“It was still off-putting. And then there was that time you also cried when we took you to karaoke with Baru-kun and his_ friends_…”

“But that was only after drinking!!”

“You had a single glass-”

“I’m a lightweight!”

“--of _ juice_.”

Without having a place to run to in the middle of breakfast, Tsumugi can only hide his beet-red face behind his hands. Such a sight actually makes Natsume chuckle, the sound teasing but light-hearted.

“You’re so mean, Natsume-kun!” Tsumugi complains, muffled behind his hands. “You only laugh when you make fun of me...”

“You know that isn’t true.” Natsume’s smile is devilish. “And even if it were, you can’t blame me. I laugh because that’s all in the past, and there’s no denying what a crybaby you were and _ still _ are.”

“Well--” Tsumugi tries, showing Natsume his red-cheeked frown, “If I’m a crybaby, so are you. Do I need to remind you how hard you cried when I pro--_mgh _!”

A mouthful of toast successfully stops Tsumugi from finishing his sentence, a threatening Natsume on the other side of the treat. 

“My, sorry about_ that_.” Natsume says, menacing. “Your breakfast is so very salty I imagined you could do with some of mine. It has that homemade jam I bought the other day, isn’t it so _ sweet? _”

“You’fe fchanging the shubject--!”

“Ah, there’s the kettle.” Natsume says, as if he didn’t hear him, “Excuse me while I get you some _ coffee_.”

Natsume quickly retreats to serve into Tsumugi’s favorite mug, and though he’s done about every thing to cheat his way around accepting his own embarrassing feelings, Tsumugi lets it slide; the jam does make the toast tastier, and he finds himself grinning at the sight of Natsume’s reddened ears. 

For the time being, it’s enough of a victory.

\--

The rest of the day is as regular on birthday standards as it can be, apart from the flower bouquet he gets from his titular class; he miraculously doesn’t cry at such a thoughtful gesture, but the shiny, teary eyes he gets does earn him a fair amount of teasing for the remaining time in homeroom. As the day passes, he’s entertaining coworker’s and other student’s good wishes coming in and out of his desk at the teacher’s room. On every little bathroom break or runs to the office, he makes sure to catch bits of a live streaming of Natsume’s TV spot and show his anonymous support via the confusing message board he can barely access through his phone. 

Finally, by the time lunch-break comes, he enjoys not only the expected sweet omelette roll he’d seen in the morning, but a nice serving of tonkatsu, salad and even the small octopus sausage bits Natsume so often teased him for enjoying. He realizes why there was such a hesitancy on showing him the lunch in the first place, and makes a mental note to tease him right back about making them in the first place. 

When he’s relieved of academy duties, Tsumugi thinks he’s simply heading to the apartment to wait for Natsume to get home, as he’s surely eating out with the TV staff after a successful live fortune-telling show. To simply end his day with store-bought cake would be nice enough since his real birthday plans with Sora and other friends are until the weekend, but he’s surprised to find the redhead already at the school gates with showy sunglasses on, like a genuine celebrity going casual. His back is pressed to a pilar as he signs notebooks for squeaky schoolgirls.

“Thank you so much, Sakasaki-san!” A first-year exclaims, her voice higher than Tsumugi had heard her even on singing lessons. “We’ll continue cheering you on!”

“As it should be, _ little kitten_. Your support is what keeps yours truly going.” Natsume replies, his voice so deep and cool Tsumugi can’t help but snort loudly into his free hand; the entire group of girls thankfully don’t notice him, giggling and fluttering all over Natsume to get one last handshake in before walking towards the train station. Tsumugi almost thinks he’s gotten away with his private moment of fun until the students have disappeared in the distance and Natsume turns his head his way, sunglasses up his head and glaring pointedly enough to make Tsumugi yelp.

“I didn’t even laugh that hard!”

“You did. And I could smell your stupid cologne from_ miles _ away.” Natsume tells him, squinting. “What were you even snickering about?”

“Aha...You know how I feel about the whole ‘little kitten’ thing…” He finally walks up to the redhead, grinning. “it’s always been so silly.”

“Well, that’s how I tell my fans they’re _ appreciated_.” Natsume rolls his eyes, “Even your mother agrees it’s a good practice, you should learn from her.”

As much as the thought of Miss Aoba being satisfied with Natsume makes Tsumugi happy, he still shakes his head very firmly at the comment.

“No thank you...it comes off easy to you, but I’d probably die of embarrassment if I told anything like that to anyone at all, fan or not.”

“Hmph, _ whatever_.” Natsume scoffs and pulls down his sunglasses once more. “You’re done for the day, right?”

“Uh--yeah, actually--what brings you here, anyway? Doesn’t the studio staff usually take you home once the recording and group-lunch ends?”

“Yes, but I asked to be dropped off_ here_.” Natsume tells him, arms crossed. “You didn’t plan to just go home and stay by yourself until sundown, right?”

“Well, I’m not technically alone if you count Luci, Lizzie and Tama…”

“We’re not talking cats here,_ moron_.”

“Oh.” Tsumugi just blinks at him. “Then yeah, pretty much. Why?”

Natsume pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily, as if years by Tsumugi’s side hadn’t prepared him for the never-ending parade of obliviousness that stretches on to this very day. After muttering to himself for a moment, he grabs Tsumugi’s hand to pull him forward.

“W-Wait, the station’s on the other side!”

“We’re not going home just yet.” Natsume tells him, walking ahead so firmly Tsumugi has no choice but to follow, even if he trails behind. “That public library you like is closeby, isn’t it?”

“Ah--” Tsumugi clutches Natsume’s hand, if only the tiniest bit tighter. “Yeah. It’s a short walk from here.”

“Good. Mommy’s new book should be there by now and I need to go pick it up. You might as well come with me and take your time and look around for anything you think you’d be _ interested _ in.”

Wow. Despite his intentions being clearer than crystal, Natsume still makes such an effort not to say it out-loud Tsumugi couldn’t help but feel endeared; and perhaps covering his identity wasn’t the only reason for sunglasses when the sunset almost came upon them. Tsumugi’s smile softens as he allows his fingers to intertwine with Natsume’s.

“The library’s near this cafe that just opened, did you know? I hear they have a really nice variety of tea blends.”

The corner of Natsume’s mouth twitches upwards, his steps slower and easier.

“Is that so? But it won’t be good if it doesn’t have hot chocolate or pancakes as _ well_.”

Tsumugi’s laugh is warm as he finally catches up to him.

“Oh, weren’t you just saying the other day that the weather was too hot at night for baked goods?”

“Maybe I changed my mind for_ today_.”

“Hmm.” Tsumugi squeezes his hand, “Maybe so.”

It’s not like they need to say anything outright to get that the plans have already been decided.

And it’s not like they have to pull their hands away, even when they do make it to the library.

\--

While the better part of Tsumugi’s day was filled with the mere implications of love and his usual readings of Natsume’s indirect messages, there was nothing but straightforwardness when they finally made it home after hours of books and sweets. 

Upon crossing the threshold of the shared apartment, Tsumugi almost feels like a giddy teenager after a date, except without the nerves, the guilt or uncertainty that drew over his own particular adolescence. Everything now is secure and familiar--even Natsume’s own unpredictability, like the new ways he finds to push Tsumugi down to his level and kiss him in the middle of the living room, somehow always as loving as he is subtle, and then as hungry as he is giving.

No matter how many kisses--even counting the immeasurable amount of failed attempts, the nose bumps and the pecks from the messy year after high school--, the pits of Tsumugi’s stomach never fail to fill up with warmth whenever he feels Natsume this close, this feeling and this real. Tsumugi feels like his arms are tight and reliable for once as he gets lost in embracing Natsume as close, and his hands don’t even tremble as he holds the back of Natsume’s head, fingers brushing long tendrils of red and white up and down. Natsume doesn’t stay behind either, kissing hard and soft at once, nails digging ever so slightly into Tsumugi’s back even through his clothes, but soon enough into them, gently scratching at skin that should probably only be less sensitive than his own. 

Needless to say, getting into that sort of territory and seeing his coat and Natsume’s belt somehow already on the floor is enough for Tsumugi to sort of break the spell, in order to get one breathless, dazed word in:

“Bedroom?”

\--

Admittedly, kisses don’t taste all that great considering where their mouths were mere seconds ago, but it’s not the kind of thing Tsumugi is in any right mind to register in the heat of the moment. Instead, he melts into it, tired but satisfied and riding on the warm afterglow of sex. Even the sharp-tongued Natsume is at a loss for words for one good moment, getting his breath back and resting on top of Tsumugi. Then, he’s quietly straddling to lean in close, nose-to-nose to Tsumugi; it looks like he’s going for another kiss. Instead, it turns out it’s just his turn to break the spell with a frown and a whisper:

“You’re really sweaty right now, you know. It’s _ unpleasant_.”

...Not exactly the pillowtalk one would expect after such a nice time together, but Tsumugi can’t help but chuckle airily in reply. Typical Natsume.

“I can’t really help it if we’re in August and we just...you know, had some activity.”

“I’m not asking_ how_, I’m just saying.”

“If it bothers you so much you can just get off me.”

Instead of doing as much, Natsume pouts. When he readjusts himself to lay face-down next to Tsumugi, he still places a pale arm across Tsumugi’s chest, as if hugging and still claiming him as his despite his discomfort with their sticky and warm bodies. Tsumugi laughs at such a choice, rolling his eyes in endearment.

“You’re worse than the cats, Natsume-kun.”

“_Shut up_.” Natsume mutters, his face hidden and his voice muffled into his pillow. “You know this is how I sleep best.”

Clingy. Tsumugi keeps the word to himself, though, and merely hums as he reaches to hold the hand keeping him in place. 

“Yes, of course.” He sighs up at the ceiling, tired but content. “I’m also going to sleep really well tonight.”

“You better.” Natsume tells him, lazily intertwining his fingers with Tsumugi’s, “I worked _ extremely _ hard today.” 

“I know, I know.” Tsumugi chuckles, feeling his eyes heavy. “I noticed everything. Even the little octopus at lunch, by the way. They were cute.”

“_Whatever_.”

“And the date was nice, too. Thank you for taking care of all the bills today.”

“The TV spot paid _ very _ well, it’s no big deal.”

Tsumugi turns his head towards Natsume, even if his eyes are hidden. He squeezes his hand.

“Overall...thank you for a good day.”

“Hmm.”

“I really love you.”

On cue, Natsume’s shoulders slightly tense and slump all at once, as if the words alone sent a chill down his spine. It wasn’t too noticeable even with his bare back, but the years have taught Tsumugi where to look for reactions. Feeling his own hand squeezed back, Tsumugi smile turns warmer when Natsume quietly mutters into his pillow.

“...Me too.” 

Even if the weekend celebration wasn’t coming and he didn’t already have five new books and a nice cake in the fridge for later, Tsumugi feels the delivery of those words alone would’ve been enough of a gift; no matter how well he knows how they sound by now, they always feel like a first time.

“Should I turn the light off?”

Natsume simply nods, lifting his arm just enough to allow Tsumugi some movement, but staying close enough to hold him back as soon as he lay back down.

Looking back at the night-table to turn off the small bedside lamp, Tsumugi smiles down at the sight of two silver rings placed there earlier for safe-keeping; they’re such a small part of everyday life it’s hard to remember all they entail sometimes, but seeing them so clearly and glistening under the light gives him nothing but warm and positive feelings.

...Ah, he’d married well. 


End file.
